


A Heart Held Together With Glue

by heartsdesire456



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Abandonment, Coming of Age, Detailed Warnings In Authors Note, Endgame Katuski Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, First Love, First Meetings, Gen, Happy Ending, Heartbreak, Heavy Angst, Loneliness, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-19
Updated: 2017-03-19
Packaged: 2018-10-07 21:29:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10369848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartsdesire456/pseuds/heartsdesire456
Summary: Victor Nikiforov's life before he met Katsuki Yuuri was not as picture perfect as most everybody imagined. From the fragile age of twelve, Victor's life was one of loneliness and pain. Six major events in his past contributed to the facade of happiness Victor lived behind around the time he met Katsuki Yuuri. This story tells those tragic tales.(Originally Titled: "Victor's Tragic Backstory™")





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, so if you saw my **Detailed Warnings In The Notes** tag and the **Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings** thing, it's because all the warnings are spoilery, so I felt that the only way to do this right, is to **put the warnings in the End Notes.**
> 
> Otherwise, this is the product of me and a friend talking about how easily it would be to have Victor have a tragic backstory, and basically, I set out to hurt him a lot, and I feel really bad about that now. Poor Victor <3 However! I can honestly see these things happening to Victor without it being out of character for him, so hopefully you don't hate me too much after reading!

12.

Victor Nikiforov was only twelve years old when he first learned that life was cruel and some people only existed to break your heart. He was only twelve when he learned that the people you trusted most had the most power to tear you down. Victor was only _twelve_ when the people who were supposed to love him more than life itself dropped him off at the airport to board a flight to St. Petersburg, where he would begin training under Yakov Feltzman, a famous Russian figure skating coach, and promised to call him every day before going back to the car and leaving.

His parents letting him go through security and board the plane alone made him feel grown up and brave, because he was more excited than scared, and he couldn’t wait to get to his new training facility and settle in and wait for their call so that he could tell them all about it. 

Only that call didn’t come.

Nor the next day.

Or the next. 

Until suddenly, Victor had been living with Yakov, in a room in his house, not at the dormitories for older skaters nearer the rink, for six months and his parents hadn’t called or written a single time. He tried calling, but there was no answer. He tried writing, but the letters came back returned to sender. He even used Yakov’s computer to send his mother an email, but she never replied. Victor spent several weeks trying to figure out why his parents wouldn’t answer his calls or his emails or his letters, before one day it finally hit him.

Victor looked at Yakov as he handed him the latest letter with the red stamp on the envelope, looking down at him with a measured expression, calmly examining Victor, who looked at the letter and then back to Yakov. “Yakov… my parents left me, didn’t they?” he asked in a tiny voice. Yakov just nodded evenly, not speaking. Victor bit his lip, looking at the letter. “They’re still paying, right? I mean… they’re not dead or something, right?” he asked.

“They still pay me every month,” Yakov reassured him. “They’re alive.”

Victor nodded, pulling his bottom lip into his mouth, his little fingers turning the envelope over and over. “They- they wanted me to come here to send me away, not because they wanted the best,” he realized. 

“Well they still got the best,” Yakov said reassuringly. He put his hand on Victor’s shoulder, looking down into his big, sad blue eyes. “Don’t worry, Vitya. I’ve done a good job taking care of you so far, haven’t I?” he asked, and Victor nodded slowly. “This is your home, too,” he said and Victor suddenly hugged Yakov, his dainty body slamming against Yakov’s chest hard. Yakov sighed heavily and stroked the soft, silver hair of the boy hiding his face in his shirt. 

Victor never found out, not even long after he had stopped being Yakov’s student, that six months after that, the payments stopped coming. Yakov never said a word and didn’t let anything change for the young boy living in his house with eyes full of more sadness than any child should ever have at his age.

 

14.

Being the youngest skater at the rink was no fun, Victor thought as he walked through the men’s locker room with his skating bag and passed by rows of men changing for practice. He was smaller than all of them. He was getting pretty tall, so he was the same height as some of them, but he was slender, with long, delicate limbs, and he had a pretty, boyish face, whereas all of these men had masculine jawlines and muscly arms and legs. He kept his headphones on and his music playing as he edged between the two rows of men in front of their lockets, nearly falling over the bench that ran down the center of the aisle, careful not to touch anybody’s stuff and risk catching their attention. 

Unfortunately, he stumbled and slammed his elbow into his locker when he got to it, making a banging noise that was heard by all the ones on his aisle. “Well of it isn’t little Victor!” Victor ducked his head, ignoring them as he turned the combination on his locker. “C’mon, Vitya! Don’t you want to talk to us!” Victor could hear them over the music playing but focused on his lock. When he got it open, a hand grabbed his earbuds by the wire and yanked them, knocking them out of his ears a little painfully.

“Ow!” he cried, turning to glare at Alexei. “Stop it!” he complained, cheeks flushing.

Alexei towered over him. “Little Vitya,” he said, poking him in the forehead. “What are you listening to there?” He tugged his iPod out of his hand and Victor tried to snatch it back. “Hold on now, little one!” he said, shoving Victor back against his locker. 

Kir leaned around Alexei and looked. “Britney Spears?” he asked and Victor puffed out his chest.

“I’m learning English, and I like her!” he defended, trying to snatch his iPod again. “Give it back!” he demanded. 

“Now, now,” Alexei said in a mocking tone, tossing the device to Maxim, who then tossed it over Victor’s head to Kir. 

“Hey!” Victor cried fearfully, trying to grab it back. Usually they just picked on how small he was or his hair or the pimples he occasionally got. None of them were nice to him. Yakov had six senior men training at the rink under him and the other coaches, and no other junior boys besides Victor at the moment. There were some kids down in novice class that showed up twice a week, but they were little children. None of the junior girls liked Victor, either. Some of them _liked_ him, but he didn’t want girls to like him that way. He just wanted friends, but they didn’t want to be his friends the same way none of the adults did.

At least the junior girls didn’t snatch his things and throw them around the locker room. Victor kept his eyes on his iPod like it was a ball in a game. He stumbled over someone’s bag as he darted forward to try and catch it, but instead Sasha threw it back behind him. Victor turned just in time to see Alexei duck as it headed for his face and then, to Victor’s horror, his iPod fell to the floor with a crunch and clattered into the base of the lockers in a crushed heap. 

Victor shoved past Sasha and rushed over to pick it up, but it was no use. It was broken. Victor stood in front of his locker, looking at the green device with a broken face and the wheel knocked out of its track and he thought about how happy he had been when Yakov gave it to him the morning of his last birthday. He didn’t get presents often, since he had no family besides Yakov, and Yakov was his coach, not his father. Yakov was being paid by Victor’s family, he wasn’t supposed to pay for gifts for Victor that weren’t necessities for his life and his sport. 

But when he turned fourteen, Yakov handed him the iPod in its case when he said good morning, and Victor had leapt out of his seat to hug his coach and jump up and down saying ‘thank you’ over and over until Yakov had laughed and ruffled his hair and told him to sit down and eat. Victor had got on Yakov’s computer and downloaded as many songs as Yakov would let him and all day he had skated around the rink with his new iPod tucked into his jacket and the little white earbuds in his ears, marveling at the ability to skate to his music whenever he wanted. When he took the tram to the rink he listened to music. When he flew long flights, he listened to music. Victor was so alone in so many ways, but he always had his music to listen to and it made having nobody to talk to so much less depressing. His pretty green iPod, his favorite color, was his favorite thing in the whole world because it was a present from Yakov and it gave him the freedom to feel less alone because there was always his favorite singers singing in his ears.

Now it was broken. 

Victor didn’t even realize he was crying until Alexei scoffed. “Oh my God, he’s _crying_.”

“Shut up,” Victor muttered through his tears as he tried the buttons just to be sure it was really broken beyond use, but nothing worked. 

Sasha snorted. “Don’t be such a baby-“

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!” Victor shouted at him, letting out a sob as he slammed his locker shut and snatched his bag, running out of the locker room in tears. 

At fourteen years old, Victor learned that being alone wasn’t the worst part of having no friends, but that being alone meant there was nobody there to comfort him when he cried. At fourteen, Victor also learned that he should never cry in front of those who were cruel to him, because they didn’t deserve to know they had that power over him.

Victor never cried in front of those other skaters ever again. Instead, he decided to get his revenge by becoming better than all of them, even if he was only fourteen, and stealing all of the limelight from the rest of the Russian skaters.

16.

At sixteen, Victor Nikiforov was the most famous figure skater in all of Europe and he wasn’t even in the senior division yet. He was the Junior World Champion two years running, he had sponsors and had posed for magazines and went on talk shows and everywhere he went, there was always at least one person who knew who he was. Yakov kept warning him not to let fame go to his head, but Victor didn’t need to be told anything. It wasn’t fame that was going to his head. Victor barely even thought about his fame most of the time. No, it was something else that Victor spent all his time thinking about. Or rather someone.

At sixteen years old, Victor fell in love for the first time, and the only thing he cared about at any given moment of the day was how wonderful it was to be in love after so long being alone. 

Ivan was handsome, and he was mysterious, and the day Victor met him, he thought he would never meet a more perfect man. He was tall, even taller than how tall Victor had grown in the last few years, and he had a strong jaw, a bit of scruff, beautiful green eyes, and broad shoulders that Victor wanted to touch. Victor had been ahead of him ordering coffee – Yakov didn’t allow coffee often, but Victor liked to sneak out and get some after practice – and he had dropped his change on the floor. Before he could turn and pick it up, someone else grabbed it and, when the man stood up, Victor’s breath stuttered over how handsome he was.

Victor had blushed when the handsome man handed his money to him and then smiled when their fingers brushed. He asked Victor if he would like to sit with him when their coffees were done, and Victor nearly shouted out his answer, he was so enthusiastic. 

They exchanged numbers before they parted and Victor didn’t let his phone out of his reach after that. Ivan texted him late into the night every single night, except on nights that Victor snuck out to go out with him. Ivan took him to parties, and on dates, and Victor never had to traveling alone late at night because Ivan had a car to bring him to the corner of Yakov’s street and watch him until he waved from Yakov’s front steps. Ivan was always looking out for him whenever Victor went somewhere with him.

Victor didn’t care he had no friends to brag about his boyfriend to, because it made keeping Ivan a secret so much easier. Yakov knew Victor was up to something, because he caught him coming home late every once in a while. Victor knew that Yakov thought he was going out and partying with people who loved Victor Nikiforov, and he didn’t bother challenging that belief since it was true enough. People at the parties Ivan took him to often did know who Victor Nikiforov was. The only reason Yakov didn’t get more upset, Victor knew, was that Yakov had every skater drug tested once a month, since skaters would be disqualified from competition if they failed drug tests during the season, so Yakov knew that while Victor might come home smelling like alcohol, he wasn’t doing anything harder than drinking while he was out. 

It wasn’t that Yakov didn’t know Victor was gay, even. Victor had worried when he first started to realize what it meant that he didn’t want the girls to like-like him, but Yakov had clearly just recognized it in him, because he actually addressed it at dinner one night and reassured Victor that he didn’t care who he was interested in as long as he skated at top form. He had warned him about getting caught, since he would lose sponsors and could get hurt by bad people, but Yakov didn’t care enough to give him shit for being gay. 

The reason Yakov couldn’t find out about Ivan was that Ivan was older than Victor. A lot older. Victor was still amazed that a _man_ wanted to be _his_ boyfriend. He didn’t treat Victor like a child like most grownups did, he treated him like another adult. Victor was mature for his age, and finally someone recognized that. Ivan was old enough that Yakov would probably _kill_ Victor if he found out his boyfriend was ten years older than he was, so he had to make sure Yakov never found out, because Ivan trusted him and he couldn’t betray Ivan’s trust. 

Victor had been dating Ivan for three months and they had all been absolute bliss. Ivan was the best thing that happened to Victor. He was the best thing in Victor’s entire life. Victor wasn’t alone anymore. He could talk to Ivan for hours and Ivan _listened_ , something he had never had before. Ivan hardly ever talked about himself at all, he focused only on Victor and his life, completely ignoring himself. Victor knew he was beautiful, but Ivan made him _feel_ beautiful. It was so very different to feel beautiful.

Ivan was Victor’s first kiss. After the day at the coffee shop, Ivan asked him out, and when he dropped Victor off he just leaned across the car and kissed him. Victor had locked his bedroom door and spun around laughing for joy the moment he got home, because a man had kissed him and it made him feel special. After that first kiss, they did a lot of kissing. Victor _loved_ kissing. By the time they had been dating for a few weeks, it wasn’t uncommon for them to leave a party early just so they could sit in Ivan’s car and kiss. 

After a month and a half of dating, one of Victor’s favorite things to do was to go park somewhere, turn on the radio, and climb into the backseat with Ivan to cuddle and listen to the radio for a while, lying there and talking for a good long amount of time, before eventually ending up making out. Ivan wanted to do more than just make out, but Victor insisted he was _not_ going to have his first time in the back seat of a car. Sometimes Ivan got frustrated with Victor when Victor dragged Ivan’s hand away from the button on his jeans, but when he started to insist Victor let him do more than just take his shirt off, Victor would pout at him and pretend he was angry until Ivan relented and settled for kissing again.

Victor wasn’t angry, really. He understood why Ivan wanted more, but he just really wasn’t ready. Sometimes, Victor thought about telling Ivan he wasn’t ready, but Ivan never tried to take him to his house, so Victor assumed Ivan understood that ‘I don’t want my first time to be in a backseat’ meant he wasn’t ready to have sex at all. If he didn’t, he would’ve surely tried to get Victor to come home with him.

But after another month, Victor could tell Ivan was annoyed with him. He was still sweet, and he never got angry at Victor, but Victor felt like Ivan was going to get tired of him making him wait, soon. He loved Ivan, so he didn’t want that to happen. So he started to think about sex, and sex with Ivan more, and he did some research – careful not to let Yakov find out what he had been looking up on his computer in the middle of the night – and decided that he might like sex. 

The next time Ivan picked him up, they went to get some food, and when Ivan started to order alcohol for them, Victor stopped him. After the waiter left and Ivan asked why he didn’t want him drinking, Victor leaned close and told him so that nobody could hear that, if Ivan would take him somewhere with a bed, they could have sex later, and he didn’t want to have sex with someone who had been drinking. Ivan had looked at him in shock before agreeing. 

After dinner, when they got in the car, Victor was nervous. He kept fiddling with the condoms he had bought and put in his jacket pocket. It had been so embarrassing to stand in front of the condoms at the store with all the people walking around him, because it felt like every one of them was staring at him. It took him four times walking past the condoms because someone else walked up before he finally got a pack and left to pay for them. 

He was confused when they pulled up at a hotel instead of at a house, but Ivan just told him his apartment was messy and small, with nosy neighbors, and Victor deserved his first time to be in a big, soft bed without nosey neighbors listening in on them. When Ivan came back to the lobby with a room key, Victor spent the entire ride up on the elevator fearful that he would do bad and Ivan wouldn’t enjoy their first time, but Ivan kept his hand on his waist and kept whispering all the things he wanted to do to Victor, and Victor _wanted_ those things so badly. 

When they got to the room, Victor convinced Ivan that they should just make out a little before actually getting to sex, just until they were both comfortable. Ivan didn’t laugh at him, and he didn’t seem annoyed, and Victor felt more sure than ever that this man was his soulmate. Victor hesitated for only a moment in stopping Ivan from starting to take his clothes off, but when Ivan whispered, “I love you” in his ear, the first time either of them had ever said it, Victor felt like he was going to burst with happiness. 

At first, having sex was strange, especially since he hadn’t considered that to start when he would be staring at the wall behind the bed and not even able to see Ivan behind him, and some parts of it hurt, but Ivan held him and kissed him and touched him in ways that made him feel so beautiful. Ivan was closer to him than any person had ever been, physically and emotionally, and it only became more intense when Ivan wanted to change positions and Victor could look into Ivan’s beautiful green eyes while they made love. It was overwhelming and Victor felt _whole_ for the first time in his life. He was less alone now than he ever had been before, and Ivan was the reason why. Making love was the best thing that Victor had ever felt, and it wasn’t even the physical feeling, since the pain at the start and all the nerves he had felt all day made it so he didn’t feel like he was going to reach orgasm. But that didn’t matter, because it did feel good physically, and more importantly, it was _breathtakingly_ beautiful to be with the man he loved, and he told Ivan with every moan and sigh and whispered, “I love you, Ivan” as their bodies moved together as one. 

It hurt a little when Ivan got less controlled at the end, but Victor couldn’t wait to be the one who gave his boyfriend such pleasure. When Ivan finished, he tossed his head back and Victor was unable to look away from the breathtaking look of pleasure on his face. Ivan collapsed on top of him and Victor panted as he wrapped his arms around the too-big man weighing him down. Ivan was too heavy, but Victor didn’t care. He kissed his cheek and jaw as Ivan caught his breath. When he finally lifted himself off of Victor, Victor gasped at how fast he withdrew from Victor’s body. Victor expected him to move to lie beside Victor, but instead he moved to grab a glass off the table and go to the bathroom to fill it from the tap. Victor rolled onto his side to watch him, only to frown when he felt something wet fall onto his thigh at the motion. He had read about potential for bleeding, and Victor gasped. He hadn’t thought it hurt _that_ bad, so he reached down under the covers to check. However, when he brought his hands back up, it wasn’t blood. Victor sat upright and looked over at the bedside table and saw the condom lay there unopened. 

When Ivan came back, Victor demanded to know what he had been thinking, but instead, Ivan just reassured him that he had nothing to give Victor and Victor had nothing to give Ivan, so it was all alright. Victor wasn’t happy with that answer, because they hadn’t talked about having sex without condoms, but Ivan said it felt better that way, so he figured it couldn’t be that big of a deal. He believed Ivan when he said he didn’t have anything, and he knew Ivan would never risk Victor’s health since he loved him.

However, when Ivan moved to get dressed rather than come back to bed, Victor was confused. He had looked forward to cuddling after making love, but even without that, he couldn’t figure out where Ivan could be going. So he asked him why he was getting dressed since this wasn’t the type of hotel that booked rooms by the hour, so obviously it wasn’t that. 

What Ivan told him was the last thing he would have ever expected.

“Oh no, I have to go home,” Ivan said. “You feel free to stay, though. Just don’t buy anything billed to the room, this was already expensive enough.”

Victor frowned. “Why do you have to go home? If you have work in the morning, you can just go from here, can’t you?”

Ivan laughed and for the first time in a long time, Victor felt like he was being laughed at. “Victor, you may not realize it yet, but grownups have shit to do.” 

“And you think I don’t?” Victor demanded, getting a little angry. “I have training at seven in the morning, but I wasn’t going to run home on you. I would like it if you stayed, Ivan,” he said very plainly, trying to make him understand that Victor wanted to spend the night with him. They had made love, and Victor didn’t understand why he didn’t want to enjoy waking up together, too. 

Ivan shook his head. “Sorry, Victor,” he said, leaning down to kiss the top of his head after shuffling into his shoes. “My wife expects me to be home after going out with friends, and if I don’t come home, she’ll know I wasn’t really out with friends.”

Victor almost thought he heard wrong until he asked Ivan to say it again, and he said the same words a second time. Victor’s mind was stuck on ‘my wife’ until Ivan was fully dressed and walking towards the door. “Wait, you- you’re _married_?” Victor asked fearfully. 

Ivan sighed. “Look, I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to make things complicated-“

“Complicated?! Ivan, I love you!” Victor cried, throat tightening. “You- you told me you loved me,” he said in a brittle voice. 

Ivan shrugged. “Objectively, yeah, I do.” Ivan smirked. “You’re fun, and it’s a thrill sneaking around together, isn’t it? You really kept that ‘tease’ game up for a long time. I thought I was going to burst. I love how fun you are.”

Victor just stared at him in horror. “G-Game? This- this was just some _game_ to you?” he asked, and Ivan raised an eyebrow as he reached for the door.

“What else would you think it was?” he asked, giving Victor that charming grin that now just looked predatory instead of devilishly charming. “Call me about next time,” he said, and then left the room without a backwards glance. 

After lying in the bed in shock for quite a while, Victor did the only thing he could think to do and grabbed his phone to call Yakov. Yakov wasn’t happy to be woken up not long after he went to bed, but it was after eleven and Victor started crying as soon as Yakov answered, so he didn’t give Victor hell, he just asked where he was and hung up.

When Yakov got there, he had stopped at the front desk and, through threat or bribe, gotten a key, because he didn’t knock, he just opened the door and walked in. For a moment Victor was afraid it was Ivan coming back, but when he saw Yakov, he just burst into tears. Yakov looked at him huddled, still naked with his long hair falling around his shoulders, under the stark white hotel sheets, and for a moment Victor feared he would get a lecture, but instead Yakov walked closer and stopped beside the bed, reaching out to lay a hand on top of Victor’s head, and asked him only one question; he wanted to know if someone had hurt Victor. Victor shook his head as he cried, and only managed to say, “I thought he loved me,” through his tears. Yakov stroked his hair for a moment and told him to clean himself up and get dressed and meet Yakov downstairs, that they would go home.

At sixteen years old, Victor discovered what it was like to have his heart broken in the cruelest way. At sixteen, he learned to never blindly trust anyone that seemed mysterious because it might not be mystery, it might be lies. At sixteen, Victor lost his innocence in every way possible, and he swore to himself that he would never be so naïve ever again. At sixteen, Victor became a man, not because he had sex, but because he learned what it was to be _used_ by someone he thought he could trust.

At sixteen years old, Victor finally began to realize that the only person he could trust in the whole world was Yakov. Yakov never made Victor explain himself. Yakov never gave him a lecture about being a foolish boy who fell for false love. Yakov never punished him for sneaking out or stopped trusting him even after Victor proved himself to be a stupid boy that did things he shouldn’t do. Instead, Yakov hugged him while he cried in the hallway outside the hotel room and then took him home and let him go to bed without making him say a word. The next morning, they got up and went to the rink and the only references Yakov made to what had happened at all was asking if Victor felt well enough to try jumping or if he thought it was too risky and he may injure himself. Even when Victor asked Yakov to take him to get a blood test done because Ivan hadn’t used a condom, Yakov just agreed and never once acted like Victor should be ashamed of what he had done or what he had allowed someone to trick him into doing.

After that, Victor started to realize he wasn’t actually alone, and he hadn’t been alone for a very long time. Yakov wasn’t a sappy, affectionate man, and he didn’t go out of his way to be Victor’s friend, but he was always there and always had been. Yakov looked after him when his family abandoned him. Yakov gave him his independence to help him grow from his own choices and the consequences of those choices, but he didn’t say ‘I told you so’ ever, he simply comforted Victor when those consequences were far beyond what his poor choices warranted. 

At sixteen years old, Victor Nikiforov learned that Yakov was his father in more ways than his real father ever had been, and that in his own way, he loved Victor when nobody else did.

 

18.

Victor was eighteen years old when he joined the senior division and learned that there was nothing he wouldn’t sacrifice to be the best. No matter what he felt in his heart, he would give up his very soul as long as it meant being the best he could ever be.

Though some of the girls went up to the senior division earlier, Yakov thought it best for Victor to stay in juniors until he was eighteen. For his senior debut, Victor had all eyes on him after three consecutive Junior World Championship gold medals. Victor had an amazing program planned, his costume was _beautiful_ , purple and blue with rhinestones and sparkles and flowy bits around his neck that twirled when he spun, and he had a new boot company so his cool new skates had the Russian flag on the heel and _gold_ blades that looked so awesome he couldn’t wait for everybody to see him perform.

Victor was driven, and he was determined to win, but moving up to the senior division was a challenge. He wasn’t the youngest man in the senior division, there were several seventeen year olds out there, but being so used to winning everything easily to having to really work for it was a big change. He still had more quads than most men did, even older ones, but they also had experience that he didn’t. It wasn’t uncommon for him to be super nervous while all the other skaters were laughing and joking with one another. He wasn’t friends with any other senior men yet, so he didn’t know anybody to talk and laugh with to help calm his nerves.

He also didn’t think he would be making friends anytime soon with any of the senior men he had met so far. 

“Hey, little girl, you get lost?” one man asked as he walked past. Victor held his head up and ignored it, but another one chuckled.

“The ladies skate is tomorrow, Sweetheart,” he called and Victor clenched his jaw. 

Someone whistled. “Looking cute in your sparkly cat suit, girlie!” 

Victor grunted and put a hand on his back as they continued through the warmup area. “Don’t listen to them, Vitya. They’re just intimidated by your skills and feel stupid for being afraid of a boy your age.” 

Victor kept his face passive but inside his stomach was churning. Yakov might claim they were intimidated by him, but he sure felt intimidated. They were all older at this competition, and they all had senior men’s records already under their belts. He was tall and skinny and he knew he didn’t have the muscle a lot of them had yet. He was growing more man-shaped by the day, but he still had a youthful willowy grace that was quite feminine. Victor loved his pretty figure and long pretty hair, but he felt like such a child around these men. 

One of them even had _facial hair_. Victor didn’t have to shave but once every week or two. 

When his short program came, he left the training area to catcalls and whistles from the other skaters and his knees shook as he bit back embarrassment. Yakov was telling him something, but he couldn’t even really be sure what. His pulse pounded in his ears, and he could barely breathe as he stepped onto the ice. He handed Yakov his water bottle and Yakov spoke in a low voice. “Look, Vitya, don’t worry. You’ve done this a thousand times. Just skate like you always do.”

Victor nodded at him, and when he skated out to center ice, he _thought_ he would be fine for a moment. Right until the music started, a pop song from when he was a child sang by a girl group, and he wondered what all the other skaters thought about that.

It wasn’t a good skate at all, and after that skate, he couldn’t even watch the rest of the competition because he was too busy crying in a dark corner of the hallway.

After the event ended, he was still huddled in a dark hallway, around a column from the main hall, when he heard some people coming. He glanced and saw it was the _judges_ and he ducked back, since he still had to do his free skate the next day and he didn’t need to line up and look at the judges and know they all saw him crying like a child. As the approached, fear mounted as he heard them stopping at the water fountain. He covered his mouth to try and keep super quiet, hugging his knees closer so his costume sparkles didn’t catch the light around the column to his back.

“It’s just a shame. I had high hopes for Nikiforov. He’s so popular.”

“Which one was that again?”

“You know, the pretty one with the hair.”

“Oh, the girly kid?”

“Yeah, with the ponytail.”

Victor’s heart sank and he bit back a whimper.

“That little girl clearly wandered into the men’s competition. He didn’t even skate like a men’s skater. He didn’t land a single quad and doubled his axel. It was like watching a ladies competition, wasn’t it?”

Victor crushed his eyes shut and tried to block out the horrible things they were saying, but the last thing he heard before they started walking again was, “Maybe he’ll be better when he hits puberty and grows into a man.”

That night, Victor’s shame and sadness turned to _pain_. When he got out of the shower back at his hotel room, he looked at his reflection and his eyes kept straying to his hair, hanging in dark gray strands, wet from the shower, and he was overcome with an urge to do something drastic. 

Victor loved his hair. He was proud of his long, beautiful hair. He took care to comb his hair one hundred strokes before bed until it shined beautifully as it hung over his shoulder. It had taken him six years of careful, strategic trimming to grow strong, healthy hair that reached his waist.

But if it came down to the judges taking him seriously or his beautiful hair, Victor knew what he had to choose. 

When Yakov got back to their room, he heard Victor crying in the bathroom, and when he finally got him to open the door, he found him sitting on the floor with a pair of first aid scissors on the floor in front of him with clumps of silver hair lying all around him as he sat and cried, holding a handful of his once-beautiful hair in his open hand, watching the strands falling away. 

Yakov looked at the unevenly hacked off hair left on Victor’s head and he let out a heavy sigh. “Victor, what did you do?”

Victor sniffled, but looked up at him with determination in his red-ringed eyes. “Gold medals are what’s important and the- the judges said I skated like a girl because I look like one. I heard them. In the hall,” he said, voice growing less strained. “I- I’m going to skate in my black pants and a button down shirt tomorrow.” 

It would be years later before Victor ever found out how heartbroken Yakov was to see Victor sacrifice who he was to win a medal, but he also found out how proud of his devotion Yakov was. 

Victor never did find out that, when he was eighteen years old, eight judges got fired from the ISU after Yakov Feltsman reported the things they said about Victor, and after that, any judge caught disparaging a skater’s looks was taken under review and usually got fired so their bias couldn’t affect their scoring. 

 

22.  
After four years in the senior division, Victor had become even more famous and widely known. He had also become friends with a lot of not just the senior men’s skaters, but with skaters of all disciplines. He was popular and well-liked, and he even had some close friends now. Victor had been so alone for such a long time – pretending that whole dating a married man thing didn’t happen – and Victor had been so delighted to make friends he could trust with his secret thoughts and dreams and fears. 

One such friend was named Gabriel, a skater from Spain that Victor talked to every single day. When they were at the same competitions or doing the same ice shows, Victor always made sure to swap roommates so they could share together. They visited each other all the time. Victor had never had a best friend before, so Gabriel was special to him in a way nobody else ever had been. He wasn’t attracted to Gabriel, so it wasn’t like it had been with a few others in the past, but he loved him like a brother, and he was so grateful for Gabriel being in his life.

At twenty-two years old, Victor learned that someone didn’t have to be your lover to break your heart, and that sometimes, a friend’s betrayal was worse than a lovers’ ever could be. 

Victor met Gabriel when he joined senior division when Victor was twenty. They became fast friends during competitions, and within a year they had been to each other’s houses, had skated at each other’s rinks, and told each other _everything_ that happened during the day on messenger. Gabriel was the first person Victor talked about having perfected the quad flip with, Gabriel was the first person besides Yakov he told about his being gay, and Gabriel was the first person he told about how he met a guy that he thought might like him, when he hadn’t found anyone for more than a fun time without commitment since his first traumatic relationship. Even Gabriel didn’t get to hear about _that_ , because Victor planned to take that tale with him to the grave.

Victor never would have thought that keeping a big secret from his best friend would end up being a lifesaver, but he also never thought that his best friend, the man he trusted even more than Yakov sometimes, would end up betraying him in such a crushing way. 

Victor had been a child who didn’t understand he was doing something wrong when he was, unsurprisingly, betrayed by a man he thought loved him. But when Gabriel betrayed him, Victor was an adult who had _known_ he could trust Gabriel. Gabriel wasn’t the kind of person who did sleazy things like the last person to destroy Victor’s self-worth had been. Gabriel seemed kind and he seemed like he loved Victor just as Victor loved him. He trusted Victor with his secrets just as much as Victor told Victor trusted him. There was no warning, and at first, Victor didn’t want to even believe what he knew had to be true, because the thought of Gabriel betraying him was unimaginable. 

Victor was at a restaurant, waiting on his date to arrive, when Yakov called him to warn him that something had gone very, very wrong. Victor had wondered why his date, the man he thought might be something special, wasn’t there when it was twenty minutes past the time they agreed to meet, and when Yakov said what he had to say, Victor understood why.

“Vitya… it’s out. You are out.”

Victor frowned, looking around to see if anybody was watching him talk on the phone at his table in distaste since it was so rude. “Yakov? I don’t understand. What do you mean?”

“The internet is on fire with the story that Victor Nikiforov is gay,” Yakov said, and Victor’s heart _dropped_. His blood ran cold and he felt his lips and fingertips begin to tingle as shock settled in. “Vitya, I’m so sorry.”

Victor sucked in a breath. “My- my date didn’t show up. He- he must have- have-“

“It probably wasn’t your date, Victor,” Yakov dismissed. “Whoever it is, they know that you discovered your sexuality at sixteen, the websites are talking about how you have commitment issues because you have never had a relationship, only flings, and it talks about how you have never had a sexual relationship with a woman before. Whoever this is, it’s probably someone you’ve been with before, not your date you just met.”

It hit Victor like a skate to the shin as soon as Yakov mentioned the ‘never had sex with a woman’ part. Victor had only ever told one person that. There was only one person in the whole world that knew about that.

The last person Victor ever expected to tell anybody his secrets had broken his trust and Victor felt sick.

Victor didn’t confront Gabriel. Victor never told Yakov he knew it was Gabriel who told his secrets. He never visibly showed how upset he was. He handled the questions and the attention with aplomb and pretended to not care.

But he did care. He cared deeply. When nobody was there to see him, he cried his heart out into his dog’s fur. He cut Gabriel off completely, and he found himself once again alone. One of his biggest fears was becoming real, because again, after finally thinking he had someone he could confide in, someone he could trust with his deepest secrets, someone to love him unconditionally, he had been betrayed. He refused to cry in front of someone that wasn’t Makkachin. Yakov saw him cry very rarely, and he tried to not make Yakov worry now. He was an adult now. He lived in his own apartment, he didn’t need a parent to hold his hand anymore, and he had responsibilities that meant he couldn’t just run to Yakov whenever things went wrong.

However, his heart was broken, possibly worse than it ever had been before, because this time someone he had thought was trustworthy beyond childish naivety had turned out to be absolutely willing to betray him as if their friendship never mattered, and it scared Victor into wondering if he would ever be able to trust anyone with his secrets ever again. 

At twenty-two, Victor almost gave up on hoping to ever find a companion of any sort that wouldn’t tear him down just to see him suffer, and it scared the shit out of him.

 

25.

At twenty-five years old, Victor was finally happy. He was ready to seal that happiness with wedding rings and a kiss at an altar. His boyfriend, David, had moved in with him a few months ago, they had been seeing each other for nearly two years, and Victor was blindingly happy. 

Victor met David at the Olympics. David was a team coordinator for the American house, and Victor had been taken by his beautiful blond curls and glimmering blue eyes the moment he saw him. They had spoken on a tour of the Olympic village and had ended up running into each other over and over again throughout the games. David was funny, and charming, and Victor fell hard and fast. For the two weeks they were both there at the Games, they saw each other as often as possible. Victor’s roommates didn’t mind relocating so they could be alone together, and Victor had never felt so instantly connected to anyone. David was the love of his life, he was sure of it. 

When the Olympics ended, Victor knew he was throwing caution to the wind to ask David to stay with him in Russia. It was insane to even ask, he knew, but to his shock and utter joy, David was just as impulsive as Victor and he only went home long enough to quit his job and pack his things. Though David didn’t move in with Victor straight off, he got an apartment a few blocks away so they could see each other all the time. Victor was in love unlike ever before. He was obsessed with seeing David as often as possible, and they rarely went six hours without at least talking via text or phone call. David had given up a great job when he moved there, but he seemed happy working in a store. He had spoken Russian before coming there, part of why he’d been hired by Team USA in the first place, so he had no problems fitting in in St. Petersburg, and their lives were wonderful.

They spent winters having snowball fights and summers in the sunshine. Makkachin wasn’t the most welcoming to David, but Victor had never had someone around so often so he understood. Makkachin was picky about people sometimes. When they made love, Victor felt an emotional connection he had never found in his entire life, and their time together was pure bliss.

When David’s lease ran out, Victor asked him to move in, and David accepted readily. Victor had never lived with anyone but Yakov before. He had never shared a life with someone, and he found that having someone to come home to every day was the most welcome joy he had ever found. Victor looked at David where he slept across the bed every night and thought he wanted that every day for the rest of his life.

Victor planned a beautiful proposal, but before deciding to take that step, he went to Yakov to talk to him about it. Yakov was never one to be demonstrative, but his little junior skater who had moved in with him much like Victor had years ago was in the room when Victor talked to him and he had a lot to say. “What the fuck you want to get married for?” he asked, and Victor rolled his eyes at the little twelve year old child’s filthy mouth. 

“What’s your name again, Sir Swears A lot?” Victor said and the kid glowered. 

Yakov rolled his eyes. “Yuri, stop cursing,” he said, and the boy huffed. “Go to your room, we’re talking about adult things.”

“Yeah, like fucking marriage-“

“Go!” Yakov chided and the kid slid off the couch and stomped down the hall to the room that used to be Victor’s room. Victor had only met the boy a few times before, but he had been living there about six months at that point. Yakov sighed. “I liked him better when he only came here for summer training camps in novice class,” he grumbled.

Victor grinned. “What do you think, though? Am I being rash? We’ve only lived together a few months, but I really love him, Yakov,” he said, sighing dramatically. “I want to be his husband.”

Yakov looked at him for a long time and actually gave a fond smile. “This may sound disingenuous from a person who was married for a year before divorcing, but if you think it’s time, I’ll be happy for you,” he said in a rare moment of warmth. Victor knew that Yakov loved him, but he was not a man who showed his love openly very often. “You deserve it,” he said and Victor smiled at him. 

Yakov was the only person who truly knew how lonely Victor had been for so long. For most of Victor’s life, now, Yakov was the only person who had never let him down. He felt like, for once, he was sure he was doing the right thing because if Yakov approved, he had to be on the right path. 

When he planned the proposal, he had candlelight dinner at a private table on the roof of a restaurant with a violinist and flowers and champagne and a beautiful ring with diamonds around the band. He was so excited for a night he and David would remember for the rest of their long life together. Everything was perfect, the dinner went off without a hitch, his speech didn’t hit a single road block, and when he knelt beside the table and held up the ring, he felt like he was going to burst from the love he felt and the joy he had at knowing he would spend his life with this wonderful man. 

Instead, David had looked absolutely mortified, not overjoyed, and Victor was stuck kneeling while the violinist awkwardly tried his best to blend into the flower arrangements as David said no to his proposal of marriage. Victor had been confused and hurt and blindsided, but David seemed more confused than he was. “I just don’t get it, Victor,” David said, looking around awkwardly. “What gave you the idea that… well, we should marry?”

“What-“ Victor’s heart pounded. “We’re good together. Aren’t we happy? Don’t you enjoy our life together?”

“Yeah, it’s great!” David said enthusiastically. “You’re a great guy, Victor. And I like you more than anybody I’ve dated before,” he said, and Victor’s heart sank.

“Like…”

David smiled sadly. “Come on, Victor. I like you so much, and we’ve been having a great time. But I never imagined this being something permanent. It’s just a fun time in our lives until it stops being fun.”

Victor’s pulse pounded and he fought the lump in his throat. He _refused_ to cry in front of someone else. “I love you,” Victor said in a small voice, looking into David’s eyes. “I thought- I thought you would be the person I spend the rest of my life with. I don’t-“ He trailed off, looking down at the ring he had bought. “Why would you move to Russia on a whim if you always knew it would end some day?” he asked weakly.

“Victor, we’re young,” David urged, reaching out to touch his cheek. “You’re twenty-five. That’s too young to be settling down. This was a fun chapter of my life. I always planned it to just be a fun adventure with you. I’ll cherish our time together forever, but it was never supposed to be _it_ ,” he said, not unkindly, just without leaving room for misinterpretation. “Why would you be ready to give up the possibility of different adventures with different people in the future this early in your life?”

Victor turned his head, out of David’s touch. “Because I’m twenty-five years old in a sport where I’m reaching the age of _retirement_. What is the point of waiting until I’m thirty-five to find the person I want to spend the rest of my life with when the rest of my life could begin in a year,” he said tightly. “And I’m Russian. When you find someone you love, someone you want to be with forever, you go for it. Love is- is important. And _big_ ,” he said in frustration. “Love isn’t something to just do for fun, love is something do to for _good_.” He swallowed hard. “I- I thought you felt the same, especially since you moved in with me.”

David looked genuinely sorry. “I’m sorry, Victor. I just don’t feel the same.”

Victor nodded, putting a hand on his knee to push himself to his feet. “I see that, now.” He looked around at his grand romantic gesture and swallowed hard. “I- I’m not trying to be cruel and kick you out, but maybe I should stay with Yakov until you find somewhere else to move to,” he suggested. “I realize I gave no warning, but I just-“ He shook his head. “I can’t, David.”

David looked guilty and nodded. “I understand,” he said. Victor turned his back to leave but David caught his wrist and slid out of his chair. Victor looked at him and he could feel his heart breaking as David leaned in and gave him a kiss goodbye. There was no missing what it was. “You’re a wonderful person, Victor,” he said earnestly. “Someone will make you very happy one day. I’m just not that person.”

Victor went home first and collected Makkachin. When he showed up on Yakov’s doorstep, Yakov looked confused and then _enraged_ as tears started to fall from Victor’s eyes. He was spitting mad, ready to go after the bastard that hurt Victor _again_ , but Victor was honest about how it was all just a misunderstanding. Yakov let him curl up on the couch and tell him all about it, Makkachin in his arms as if he knew exactly what was wrong with Victor and what he needed to feel okay. 

Victor told Yakov how it hurt worse than anything ever had before, but how at least this time David hadn’t tried to hurt him. So many people had hurt him on purpose, so many people hadn’t thought about his feelings at all, and so many people had used him for their own gain. David was sorry, and Victor believed he hadn’t realized they were on different paths in the relationship. David was kind about his rejection, which Victor did appreciate greatly. 

But it still hurt. It hurt like nothing had before. Victor had never felt so utterly broken. Every dream he had was shattered. He had imagined a future that would never happen and it was like his entire world had collapsed. He was twenty-five years old and he wasn’t sure he would ever be able to love anyone ever again just because the pain he had suffered in his life from so many different kinds of love leaving him broken was a memory he could never imagine getting over.

Every person he met and liked, he would imagine how bad it would hurt if they broke his heart again. Every time he made that connection, he would fear it. Every dream he allowed himself to have, he would take with that ominous grain of salt that was the memory of the dream crashing down around him. 

At twenty-five years old, Victor Nikiforov cried himself to sleep on Yakov’s couch with his dog, because he had never felt more hopeless in his life, and the only love he could ever trust was the love of a pet and its owner and the love Yakov had for him, the closest thing to a child Yakov had ever had. At twenty-five years old, Victor decided to give up on ever loving anyone else in any capacity ever again, that way he would never feel that much pain again.

 

26.

Victor was twenty-six, on the verge of twenty-seven, when his plan that had worked for over a year to be cold and closed off, and not let anyone into his heart again after so many times being hurt fell to pieces because a beautiful man got drunk on champagne and danced the night away.

Victor didn’t know who he was, just that his drunken smile was the most beautiful thing Victor had ever seen, his strong arms around Victor as they danced were enticing, and the drunken babbling as he asked him to be his coach ignited a desire Victor had shoved deep down for so long he had thought it was effectively snuffed out. 

At twenty-six, Victor wasn’t even sad when the beautiful man disappeared from his life, because he had awoken a feeling Victor thought he would never find again in one night.

 

27.

Victor was twenty-seven when Chris sent him a link to a video and he opened it to find the beautiful man from the banquet – Katsuki Yuuri, it said – skating his routine at an empty rink on a shaky phone recording that still somehow managed to capture more deep, palpable feelings than Victor ever even dreamed of when he skated that skate. 

It had been two years by then since he’d decided to give up on ever finding love again, but what he saw in Katsuki Yuuri was _purpose_ , not love. He was beautiful and made Victor _feel_ after so long being cold, but Victor didn’t think that feeling was love, he thought that feeling was _drive_ , and so even though Yakov tried to beg, bribe, and force him to stay – for Victor could tell Yakov thought he was going to throw his heart into a blender again and wait for another person to hit ‘puree’ – Victor left without a second thought.

He was twenty-seven when he decided that he would make his own destiny based on the love of skating Katsuki Yuuri awoke in him, because the ice couldn’t break his heart.

At twenty-seven, Victor discovered that Katsuki Yuuri genuinely didn’t want to take anything from Victor for himself, he only wanted to give all of himself over to Victor so that Victor could shape both their futures into something great with Yuuri’s entire future laid at Victor’s feet. 

At twenty-seven, Victor finally started to understand that he had never understood love in his whole life the way he was learning to understand it through Katsuki Yuuri. He never thought he ‘got’ Yuuri the way he had others before. He never felt sure of anything except that Yuuri was the most interesting person he had ever met. Victor didn’t have a clue what he was doing most of the time, but the faith Yuuri put in him made him feel stronger on his own, and when he did need someone else to prop him up when he began to feel weak, Yuuri was always there, willing to _help_ Victor without expecting anything in return. 

Victor learned so much about himself, and about life, and about love that he had never had the opportunity to even touch on before he met Yuuri, and unlike others in the past – friends, family, or lovers – Victor was never sure of anything about Yuuri except that Yuuri wanted him to be himself and to figure this all out together. Yuuri surprised him every day, and always in good ways. He surprised Yuuri similarly. Before he knew it, nine months had passed and he had new friends, he had been basically accepted as part of the Katsuki family, and even Makkachin seemed to love Yuuri in a way Victor had never seen Makkachin connect with anyone. Most days Victor had no idea if he and Yuuri were friends or lovers or family, but that never bothered him, because he was still Victor and Yuuri was still Yuuri, and together they were something unlike anything Victor had ever known before. 

Things were never too easy. Things were never so difficult he thought they would lose each other. Their life they shared was just _life_ , but together instead of on their own. 

And one day, on the cusp of twenty-eight, that impossibly beautiful man who drunkenly danced into his life became the one person to ever ask Victor to stay with him and never leave.

 

29.

At twenty-nine years old, nearing the end of his final skating season ever, Victor stood on the tier marked ‘2nd’ and watched as Yuuri Katsuki-Nikiforov was crowned the gold medalist of men’s figure skating at the Winter Olympic Games, his own silver medal sitting firmly against a chest that threatened to burst with love and joy as he watched his husband tearfully bend so the medal could be laid around his neck. 

After fifteen years of feeling that he may never be anything but alone, feelings only reinforced by those few people he let in tearing him apart and leaving him broken on top of being alone, Victor had no fears for his future anymore. For the past two years, he had never felt alone. Even when he and Yuuri were apart when their schedules clashed, he knew that Yuuri would be eager to see him when they did come together again. Since the day that Yuuri’s sole request of Victor was to eat Katsudon with him, Victor had only once feared he would be lonely.

The day after Yuuri had simply asked him to stay with him in lieu of a dramatic proposal, Victor feared Yuuri was going to leave him like everybody else had, but it had ended up being a terribly misguided attempt at putting Victor first. It had been scary, and he had broken his promise to never cry in front of anyone but Yakov for the first time ever that night, but it had made Victor understand what had been missing in every relationship that left him broken and alone.

Victor had been so obsessed with finding people who wanted him, he hadn’t even considered that someone might put him first even if it meant sacrificing their happiness together. 

Thankfully, Yuuri learned fast that what was best for Victor was him, and Victor knew that he was what was best for Yuuri. Yuuri knew all about the people who had hurt him before, from his parents abandoning him to man who made him give up on love, friendship, and family altogether. He had cried for Victor, and held him as he cried over the memories of those he trusted hurting him in the worst ways, and Yuuri never made trite promises about never doing the same, because he felt no need to reassure Victor of something he knew Yuuri was incapable of doing. Yuuri could never hurt him those ways because Yuuri was incomprehensibly incapable of putting himself above those he cared for in such a cruel way. It felt so good to be able to trust someone with all of his secrets and know this time the person he entrusted with his bared soul was only interested in kissing every scar on his heart better, never in adding another. 

Love and friendship and family weren’t separate things in their life together. Victor and Yuuri had the same friends, they were both part of the same ‘families’ together, and the love they felt for each other was comfortable. Victor had almost never felt _comfort_ , and though he still felt passion and overwhelming adoration for Yuuri at times, nothing had ever compared to the comfort they had together. They were partners in everything, and Victor had never known it could be so perfect while never really being ‘perfect’.

So, at twenty-nine, Victor watched the reason he had faith in love once more wiping away tears as the flags were raised and the Japanese anthem began, and he found himself unable to stop his hand from straying over to curl through Yuuri’s as they reached out for each other on instinct, wanting to share this wonderful, life changing moment with each other as partners, as friends, as lovers, and as family.

Victor Katsuki-Nikiforov was twenty-nine years old when he realized that, thanks to Yuuri Katsuki-Nikiforov, he would never be alone again.

**Author's Note:**

> **SPOILERS BELOW!!!!**
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> **Detailed Warnings:**
> 
>  
> 
> Child Abandonment: Victor's family abandons him after sending him to St. Petersburg  
> Underage/Statutory Rape: Victor is 16 and falls for an adult man (implied to be around 25-27 years old) and they do have sex, but it is not explicit.  
> Outing: Someone Victor trusts tells the world he is gay without his permission  
> Bullying: A lot of people are cruel to Victor in various situations but it is never physical bullying, so no blood or violence warnings  
> Self-Harm: I was iffy about even calling this one self-harm, but Victor becomes distraught and chops all his hair off because he thinks he will be accepted if he gives up his beauty so people take him seriously as a skater. I wouldn't call that self-harm, but it's still a traumatic thing to do to ones-self and hair is part of his body that he damaged in an outburst of emotion.
> 
> If there's anything else I missed, it was not done so on purpose. Sorry!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [3 a.m.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12096828) by [heartsdesire456](https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartsdesire456/pseuds/heartsdesire456)




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